If Given the Choice
by TheWritingGirl23
Summary: A stranger has come to Amestris. She has fled, although she may not know it. One could argue that the land full of monsters in human skin has added another to its ranks. However, that all depends on her, doesn't it?
1. Not-Winry

For a brief second, Edward would have bet his watch that Winry had suddenly appeared out of the ether across the street. He opened his mouth to tell Al before the ludicrous notion was destroyed just as soon as it had popped into his head. The smallest double-take was enough to tell him that the girl across the street was anything but their oldest friend, despite the similar hair and height. Winry had one of those presences that could either light up a room or instantly boost his blood pressure, depending on his mood on any given day. She wasn't a subdued individual to say the least, whether she was squealing about her precious automail (the freak), laughing, ferociously concentrated on a job, or wielding her heavy tools with extreme prejudice.

All he got from the girl across the street was…chilliness.

So Ed shrugged, only slightly disappointed, and he and Al continued on their way to Eastern HQ. Even if she was in a wrench-flinging mood, Winry was still a million times better prospective company than Mustang. He was not looking forward to telling the ass about the flop that was Liore.

* * *

Al was down, half of his armor completely blown away, Ed's automail arm had been destroyed, and Ed could not move. All he could think about was how close it had been. Only a little closer to the blood seal and Al would have been gone. Nothing else was getting through in that moment: not the pouring rain, not the scarred man advancing on him, not Al crying out for him to run, and not the small figure lingering near the mouth of the alley.

Ed could just feel his attacker looming over him when they were interrupted.

"Hey. Leave them alone."

One would think that the sight of a would-be murder scene would be a bit off-putting as a matter of course. Edward did not think he had ever heard someone sound so disinterested in his life, and he would know. He had to put up with the Colonel, after all. Had he been in a less precarious situation, his train of thought would have been somewhere along the lines of _"No need to be concerned or anything, just about to be murdered here."_ As it was, he could only turn wide eyes to the end of the alley.

She looked vaguely familiar, though he could not place her off the top of his head. Shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes, kind of tiny. She was taller than Ed, but there was no way even his subconscious would acknowledge that. She also looked like she had been sleeping on the streets with the amount of dirt that stained her waterlogged white sweater.

Ed, Al, and their attacker stared for a moment, before the scarred man glared warningly. "Don't interfere here, girl. I have no quarrel with you."

She did not move, but Ed saw her gaze shift his way. He blinked. Not-Winry. That was why she was familiar. Now that he had caught more than a glance, he wondered how he ever could have mistaken the two of them.

"I said, leave them alone," she replied, taking a step into the alley. Her voice was still muted, but Ed felt a shock rush up his spine. Her words had an edge to them that he recognized, one he heard whenever the righteous fury of Izumi Curtis was inevitable, and if it was not for Al, he would have been long gone by this time.

"Don't!" Al cried as the scarred man turned toward the girl. "Run! He's dangerous!"

"I gathered."

"I'll warn you one more time," Scarface said, raising his right arm. "Leave while you can. I have no wish to harm an innocent, but if you stand in my way, I will not hold back."

She said nothing. Her arms went up, fists locked like steel traps, and her feet shifted into a defensive stance Ed had never seen. Her face was blank, but something about her told Ed that even if her expression was as flat as a plank of wood, somehow, she was smiling.

* * *

Ed sat wearily at Al's side, watching the MPs mill around the destroyed street with Hughes barking at them all the way. His eyes strayed across the road and landed on Not-Winry.

It had not been much of a fight. Scar had taken a few swipes at her, nearly stopping Ed's heart before he realized how fast she was. Scar had only managed to back her out onto the main road before Mustang and the cavalry showed up. With the insanity that followed, including Mustang screwing up rather fantastically, Major Armstrong tearing his shirt off again, and Scar disappearing into the sewers, Ed had kind of forgotten about her. It seemed everyone else had as well, after one of the MPs had made sure initially that she was not missing any limbs or essential body parts. Now she was lingering in the background, just like he and Al were.

"Hey, Al," he said, turning to his incapacitated brother. "You gonna be okay here for a minute?"

Al looked at him, his armor clanking as his head turned. "Yeah, I think so. What are you doing, brother?" Despite his words, Ed could hear the lingering fright in his metallic voice. He offered his brother a small smile, clapping a hand to his big shoulder. Al's arm fell off with a clang.

"I'm going to say thank you."

Ed got the impression she was watching him approach, though he could not tell for certain because of the soaking mop of hair hanging in her eyes. He did his best not to overbalance. "Hey, uh…thanks."

Silence.

Ed would have been perfectly fine leaving it there. After all, with his experiences as a "dog of the military", he knew when someone was willing him to piss off. However, Al was watching, and the kid would just turn him right back around to do it properly if he stopped now. "Uh…don't know what would've happened if you hadn't stepped in."

"The MPs would have shown up," she said drily. Ed could not tell if she was teasing or subtly calling him a moron. He had a feeling it was both.

He puffed out a sigh. "Either way, you didn't have to. So, we owe you one." Equivalent exchange and all.

Not-Winry flicked her wet hair out of her pale blue eyes, a hint of curiosity on her face. "If I told you that I was more interested in a fight than bailing you out, would you still think you owed me?"

Ed opened his mouth and then closed it again. All right, so her social skills were a bit lacking, not that he could really talk. It was not something one would normally say to a person you had just more-or-less-saved. Still, when he thought about it, it did not really change anything. He shrugged. "You still got him off our backs, so I'd say yeah."

Not-Winry's mouth twisted a bit, the chilly blankness on her face softening to merely openly neutral. "All right, then."

A moment of awkward silence stretched out before Ed nodded decisively. "Well, good." Deciding that was graceful enough, he turned to make his way back to Al.

"You shouldn't thank me." Ed twirled around again, his face scrunched in confusion. Not-Winry was eyeing him keenly. "I really don't think you owe me that. But you seem like one of _those_ people, so if you want that debt cleared, find me a hair clip and we'll be even."

Ed blinked a few times before smirking. "Sounds good to me. And I'm Edward, by the way. Edward Elric."

Silence.

"Annie."

* * *

 _Okay, so, not nearly enough FMA/SNK crossover, and I've been craving some variety in what is there. As much as I love Eren and Levi, there are so many other great characters to choose from. So, here it is. This might be a one-shot, or a small series of one-shots, depends on what comes to me._


	2. Running

Maes Hughes followed at a safe distance behind Ed and Major Armstrong as they all departed from Mustang's office. It was not that he did not trust the Major's strength, because who only knew how often the man espoused the greatness of his muscles, but the Lieutenant Colonel would rather avoid the possibility of having Armstrong fumble and drop the box containing Alphonse's mangled armor on top of him altogether.

In this position, he was able to catch a clear view of Ed as they passed a side hallway on their way out of HQ. The brief but sincere nod the teenager made drew Hughes's attention to the blonde girl that had also been at the scene with the Elrics and Scar. She was slouched against the wall, small and unobtrusive in the uniformly gray halls. He slowed down. It was likely not necessary to talk to her; Ed and Al had already given their accounts on what had happened and he trusted them. Still, Hughes prided himself on being a thorough investigator, and anyway, he thought, the poor kid had probably been stranded here after she got dragged along during the round-up of the scene and did not know what to do with herself now.

Hughes may have been quite an adept investigator and soldier, but the man had but one approach when greeting people, and it was anything but subtle. He practically slid up to the girl, a large grin and a perky salute at the ready. "Hey there! Awful weather we're having, aren't we?"

She did not jump, like people tended to when they experienced a Maes Hughes greeting for the first time, but her eyes certainly grew wider and more than a little baffled. Hughes went on as if he had not noticed. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, I'm with the Investigations Department. I hope you don't mind if I ask a few questions. It should only take a few minutes, and then we can both get out of this musty old building."

The bemusement fell way, and it seemed to Hughes that her whole person, which had lit up a little with the emotion, dulled again, fading into the gray wall at her back. She shrugged, uttering a simple "fine".

"Would you mind telling me exactly what you witnessed earlier today involving the assailant and the Elric brothers?" he started, whipping out a small notebook and pencil from his breast pocket.

Her eyes shifted to the right in thought. One finger brushed away her long bangs, tucking them back into the messy knot of hair held together by a clip. "It wasn't much. I saw the three of them run by. It looked like trouble, so I followed. I got there just as the scarred man destroyed Edward's arm. I heard him rambling about praying to God, and that's about when I stepped in. The MPs showed up just after that."

"That was pretty brave of you," Hughes said honestly, "intervening like that."

Her face contorted in a small, sour smile. "I honestly didn't know what I was doing. I was lucky you all came when you did. A guy like that would have destroyed someone like me," she said softly, her posture curving inward to make her look even smaller than she was.

Maes Hughes was no idiot. While she was a petite girl, he doubted she was anything less than formidable. The steely look in her eyes and the forcefully slumped posture that seemed designed to hide something were dead giveaways. Despite his curiosity, he knew to pick his battles, and so let it go. He gave her another cheerful grin. "Either way, it took some guts. Anyway, back to business. Had you ever seen the assailant, alias Scar, before?"

Standard procedure unfolded, with nothing of interest cropping up. No, she had not seen Scar before. She had never seen the Elrics before either, as far she could tell. She recounted in detail everything she had heard exchanged, which was not much. Beyond that, he could not think of anything else relevant. He saw no connection between this girl and Scar or the Elric brothers, so he saw no reason for the questions to continue.

"That should be plenty," he said, putting his notes away. He held out his hand, which she shook demurely. "Thanks for taking the time. Mind if I walk you to the door? I kind of doubt you'll want to bunk here for the night."

She followed after him as he led the way to the exit. The rain was coming down even harder than it had before, pretty much a downpour at this point, and it would be getting dark soon.

Hughes could not help but throw a few glances her way. It did not take him long to fit a few pieces together. He bopped his forehead with his palm. "How could I be so rude? I never asked your name."

"Annie Leonhardt," she replied without looking at him.

And he thought Ed could be close-lipped. Nevertheless, he was not one to back down from teenage prickliness. "Well, Annie, do you mind if I ask one more question?" he asked as he pushed open the main doors to the outside, gesturing her forward.

"Go ahead."

"What exactly are you running from?"

She froze on the porch. When she looked back at him, for an instant Hughes regretted the question. The look she was giving him did not belong on the face of anyone her age, a mixture of intense fear, confusion, and absolute rage. But then it was wiped away so quickly, he almost doubted he had seen it. "What makes you think I'm running from something?" she inquired.

"Let's just say you remind me a lot of two boys I know," he replied softly. "Plus, it looks like you haven't managed to scrape a decent room for the night in a while."

Her empty stare had Hughes convinced she would walk right off the porch without a word. Then, observant man that he was, he caught the faintest flicker in her mask. She turned her face away, and he could barely hear her words over the pounding rain.

"I screwed up. Hurt people doing it, especially my…friends. Now I don't know why or how I'm here. I guess it was the only place I could run to. If my father…he'd be ashamed of me."

As a fairly highly-ranked officer in Investigations who had done the run-around working his way up, Hughes had seen his share of missing-turned-runaway cases, and heard his fair share of tearful stories and confessions, from disillusioned teenagers, angry spouses, and the like. This particular story, while not remarkable, felt very wrong. There was no quavering voice, no shame, no tears, no bitterness. She just sounded painfully tired. He remembered sounding like that once, during a time that still haunted him and always would.

Hughes sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry to hear that. But I'll give you some advice, since I know a thing or two about this. Sometimes we think what we've done is unforgivable, and that running is all we can do, but that can't last forever. Whether we're going to earn forgiveness for it or not, at some point we have to face it and do the best we can."

"I kind of doubt I can do that at this point," she said resignedly.

Hughes chuckled. "Hey, chin up. You're young, you've got your whole life ahead of you to try. I believe you can. After all, someone who's willing to jump at a serial killer to help out two strange kids isn't totally beyond saving," he joked.

Hughes wondered if it might have been just the cold combined with her damp sweater that caused her shoulders to tremble for just a moment.

"Here," he said, digging into his pockets and pulling out a handful of cens bills. "This should be enough for a room tonight. It won't get you a penthouse, but should just scrape four walls and a roof." That money had been meant for his dinner, but when duty called, Hughes was not one to refuse that call.

She took the money silently, her face blank again. Unable to resist, he clapped a hand on her tiny shoulder and gave her one more grin. "If you're ever in Central, feel free to swing by. I'd love to hear how things work out, and my lovely wife Gracia's cooking is to die for!"

Annie's head stayed bowed. Then she drew back, stepping down off of the covered porch, her figure blurring behind the gray sheets of rain.

"Thank you, Mr. Hughes." He barely caught it, and before he could reply, she was already almost lost in the deluge.

Hughes was an optimistic kind of man, but even he knew that he would likely never see Annie Leonhardt again.

* * *

 _A/N: Okay, this was unexpected. I had honestly thought that Annie would only interact with the Elrics, but this idea kind of took over, and I don't regret it a bit. If anyone has the kindness, insight, and experience to talk on this level with Annie, it would be Maes Hughes._

 _Since I do want to do a few more one-shots, I'm not going to elaborate on Annie's characterization just yet, but let me say, she's difficult but very fun to write. Let's just say that everything she says in this chapter can be interpreted in more than one way, depending on how much you know about her. Definitely a fascinating character._

 _Whoever reads this, thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed it :)_


	3. Wants, Needs, and a Reminder

_Episode: Post "Beasts of Dublith"_

* * *

Tobha was a peaceful agricultural town in the southern region of Amestris, far enough out of the Central region to be a quiet place, but also far enough from the southern border to not be too remote or close to skirmishes down there. The townspeople's lives consisted of tending the fields and orchards under an almost perpetually warm sun along with the occasional trip out to busier towns for market days, and they were more than content with that. They could not imagine anyone desiring more than that simple life.

Mary Brinkerhoff ambled happily home. She was not as young as she used to be, and her aching joints let her know this, but it only reminded her of another good day's work done. The basket of shiny apples settled on her hip was another reminder, and it only improved her cheerful mood further. She ascended the steps of her humble house just as the late afternoon light started to fade into dusk, thoughts of fresh-baked apple pie planned for tomorrow in her head.

"Annie!" Mary called out, guessing that her boarder was likely already back. Despite having been in town for a few weeks now, the girl hardly ever stayed to socialize with the other townsfolk after the day's work was done.

She heard noises from the back of the house. Placing her basket of apples down, Mary made her way down the short hallway to Annie's room. To her surprise, the girl was packing.

"Oh, you didn't tell me you were planning to leave," Mary said, not quite hiding her disappointment. Although she could not say she was unhappy, things got lonely with this house all to herself. Annie was quiet and closed-off, but she was helpful and hard-working in the fields, beyond what was honestly necessary to pay off her room and board. It also felt rather good to be able to provide for someone again, ever since Mary's elderly father had died.

Annie nodded, folding up another of her white sweaters. "I think I've been here too long."

"I hope it's not a question of housing," Mary joked lightly. "You're welcome as long as you would like."

Annie shook her head. "I just need to keep moving."

"Do you mind if I ask why? You're a hard worker, and you've been a good deal of help around here. You've actually been quite a motivator for the young children; they seem to admire you a great deal." It was true. Annie was not much of a talker, but she seemed to be an inspiration by unintentional example. She worked long past when youths normally took a break or snuck off, and at tasks that showed just how physically strong she was. She also made no secret of her ability as a fighter. She could often be spotted practicing in the orchards. In a town populated by farmers, she had no equal in physical prowess. The display was enough to make any child starry-eyed.

Mary did not have much hope that she would receive a reply, so she was not disappointed. She sighed, before making a final request. "Well, at the very least wait one more day. The first summer festival is tomorrow. There will be music, dancing, good food. You've put in enough work to be able to share in the reward," she wheedled.

The disgruntled "fine" she received in return was probably more to stop Mary's cajoling than anything, but the older woman did not mind. In her mind, the girl was much too grim. She deserved at least a little fun.

"Good. Now, I would appreciate your help peeling some apples. I have pies to bake for tomorrow."

* * *

The festival was probably one of the better ones Tobha had seen in a decade. The early summer yields had practically been a bumper crop, the whole town had given their all into decorating one of the empty fields, and fortune had even favored the town with a small stock of fireworks and a traveling alchemist who had just so happened by.

Mary clapped vigorously along with the crowd as the alchemist transmuted a beautiful blue rose from several scraps of petals and twigs. The man smiled at the applause before handing the rose to a beaming little girl. Mary did not think she had seen something so precious in her life.

As the alchemist drew another circle in the dirt, Mary caught sight of Annie sitting on the fence at the edge of field, watching it all from a distance. Shaking her head exasperatedly, Mary made sure to grab a decent-sized mug of spiced cider from one of the tables as she made her way over.

"Amazing, isn't it?" she asked as she leaned against the fence at Annie's side and handed the teenager the mug.

Annie's lips upturned a bit as the alchemist transmuted a sculpture from the dirt. "It is. I don't know where it came from, but it's interesting to watch."

Mary blinked, unsure what Annie meant, but she did not ask about it. Instead, she tilted her head back and gazed at the twinkling stars above. Fiddle and flute music was beginning to swell. She breathed deeply. "I want to thank you, Annie. It's been good for me, having some company and some help around the house."

Annie seemed genuinely surprised at the thanks. For a second she frowned, but it then faded into acceptance and a nod of acknowledgment. They both went back to sipping from their mugs and watching the party as everyone began to dance.

The pattering of small feet grew close, three small boys rushing up to them with gleaming eyes. Their leader, a little freckled boy with dark hair and wide eyes approached Annie, trying not to fidget. "Umm, would…would you dance with us, Ms. Annie? You're pretty."

Mary did her best to contain her wide grin. Surely Annie could not resist such a face. She snuck a peek at her young boarder, and was left in confusion. Annie was staring at the boy…no, more like staring _through_ him, her eyes wide and face gone ghostly-white.

"I…I'm not much for dancing. I'm sorry," she said faintly. The boy slumped dejectedly, trailing back to his disappointed friends. Mary heard Annie whisper "I'm sorry" again as the boys disappeared back into the crowd.

Mary did not know what to say, and she did not have time to think of something before she wall called away to tend one of the dessert tables. However, for the rest of the night, as the rest of the townsfolk ate, danced, laughed, and reveled, Mary watched Annie as she sat on her fence, staring with undeniable longing.

* * *

Mary and Annie walked along the dark lane back to Mary's home, the creak of their swinging lantern and their footsteps the only noise.

"So, where will you go next?" Mary asked quietly. She yearned to ask what had happened during the party, but she knew that at this point it was probably too late.

"I'm going to Central."

Mary almost stopped walking. She honestly had not expected an answer. "Oh. Sightseeing?"

"I need to see someone. I need to ask him about something." The way Annie said _need_ , like a starving man in a desert _needed_ water…

Mary wanted to ask, more than anything. But something was holding her back. She just kept thinking about that expression that had come over the girl's face during the party. She just could not ask, not now. Maybe it would be best if she waited until morning. Annie would stay one more night, and maybe she would be comfortable enough to answer once she felt like she would not be coming back. Either way, Mary at least felt she owed Annie one more peaceful night under her roof. So she said nothing else. They made it back just after midnight, Mary bid Annie goodnight, and then they both went to sleep.

When Mary woke up the next morning, Annie was gone.


	4. Instinct

_Episode: Post "Envoy from the East"_

* * *

Riza came across one Annie Leonhardt quite unexpectedly at the Central Provost Marshal's office only two weeks after Team Mustang's transfer. The place was crowded and noisy, the babble of voices and boots clicking against linoleum and rustling of paper and whirring of the fans overhead melding into a steady drone. The teenage girl would have been easy to miss in the bustle, but Riza was not called the hawk's eye for nothing.

"Annie, this is quite unexpected," Riza greeted affably, moving up to the receptionist counter on Annie's right and setting down the weighty stack of paperwork. Considering the Colonel's usual procrastination habits, it was actually a good deal lighter than normal.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," she said quietly, half-greeting and half-affirming, like she might have forgotten Riza's name and was trying it out for familiarity. "I thought you worked in East City."

"Until recently I did, but we soldiers follow the orders where they lead," Riza replied.

Annie said nothing for a while as Riza got the paperwork checked in, occasionally craning her neck a bit to peer behind the receptionist counter. Her lips pursed slightly, before she turned back to Riza. "Can I ask a favor?"

Riza's brows rose. She had no idea what this could be about, but she could not see any harm in it, and she would break for lunch after this errand anyway. "If it's within reason, I don't see why not."

Annie sniffed, a rather distasteful look overtaking her features as she glanced around the office. "I'm not unfamiliar with military process and keeping its secrets, so they probably won't tell me what I want to know anyway. I'm looking for Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes. Do you know how I can reach him?"

Riza froze for a moment, before somberness settled over her. "I'm sorry to tell you, but Maes Hughes died just a few weeks ago," she said quietly.

Annie's face was blank for a moment before her eyes lowered, and her posture slumped the tiniest fraction. "That's a shame, truly. He seemed like a good man." The girl stepped away from the counter, nodding her head gratefully. Riza noticed her right arm rise a little and then fall again, almost as if she had stopped herself from saluting.

"Did you need help with something?" Riza inquired seriously. Hughes had been in Investigations after all. Maybe this was some criminal matter Annie felt she could only trust to him.

Annie shook her head. "We talked briefly back in East City, and there was something I wanted to ask him. It's nothing."

For such a stoic girl, not much could be said for her ability to lie. Riza considered things for a moment. Her instincts were trying to tell her that something was not quite right with Annie. She did not know what it was, but it was a strong feeling, possibly even one of danger. Riza had no idea what kind of danger a single teenager could pose, but she had long ago learned how deceiving surface appearances could be. And at the back of her mind was an image of the Colonel, pale and weary-faced after weeks of too little sleep as he did everything in his power to uncover a lead on his friend's murderer, and now here was Annie, appearing in Central not long after Hughes' death and seeking him out. It might not be that suspect, but she was not about to let even a single possibility slip by.

Riza allowed a warmer smile than before, calling out to the retreating teen. "Why don't you wait a minute? As soon as this paperwork is approved, you and I can grab some lunch. It's been a while since I've had some good conversation over a meal, and I can answer any questions as best I can, if you want."

Annie's wide blue eyes stared unabashedly into Riza's brown ones, evaluating keenly. This fact alone convinced Riza that inviting Annie to join her was not a fruitless action. Annie was evaluating risks versus benefits, that much was clear, and not something that someone without anything to hide would do. She waited patiently, never dropping her friendly smile as Annie considered. The girl worried on her lip for a moment, and the fingers of her left hand twisted a silver ring on her right index continuously, clockwise, counter-clockwise, and back again. At last, she shook her head. "Thanks for the offer. I've got to go," she said. She twisted the ring one more time. "Do you mind if I ask how he died?"

"He was killed in the line of duty," Riza said. No matter the dangerous secrets surrounding the General's death, that much was the truth.

Annie huffed out something close to a laugh. "It would be that," she murmured. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

* * *

The colonel was back in his office when Riza returned, slumped over his desk. Sheska must have finally managed to drive him out of the record rooms. His hair was even more disheveled than it normally was, and dark circles made his normally sharp gaze look hollow.

"You _are_ allowed to go home and take a break, sir," she said for perhaps the fourth time today. It did not do much good, but she did it anyway.

"Can't," the colonel rasped, dragging a folder toward him. "Too much to do."

Riza considered for a moment if she should not tell him about her encounter earlier. It was not much of a lead, if it was one in the first place, and another dead end would only drive her superior to further despondency. Riza sighed. No, she needed to tell him. As much as she wished she could spare him, the colonel was strong, and she would not disrespect him by trying to hinder his mission just because of her worry over him. Besides, he was not the only one who wanted justice for a good man's murder. "Colonel, I thought I should tell you that I ran into Annie Leonhardt at the Provost's office earlier," she began.

The colonel's face scrunched up in confusion. He mulled over the name for a moment before he caught it. "That was the girl that got involved with the Scar incident back in East City, wasn't it?" he questioned.

"Yes, sir. I spoke to her briefly, and it seems that she has come to Central specifically to find Brigadier General Hughes."

The colonel immediately sat up straight, the dullness gone from his eyes. "Did she say why?" The bite had returned to his voice.

"Not in any detail. She said they had spoken back in East City, and that she wanted to ask him something. I didn't think I could question her further about it without looking peculiar."

The colonel frowned, one of his fists clenching on the desktop. "Could be nothing. But why now? And why come all the way to Central just to ask him something? Did she say anything else?" he asked.

"Not pertaining to General Hughes, sir. However, although this is only based on my personal evaluation and instincts, Annie Leonhardt's behavior seemed suspect. She said several things that I found odd, and she seemed to regard me warily, as if I could be a threat." It might just be natural paranoia, but Riza had a suspicion that it was not. "Also, I had this feeling when I was talking to her, like something was telling me to be careful around her." _That_ was an instinct she trusted completely. It had developed in the hell of Ishval and it had never left.

The colonel stared intently ahead, no doubt lost in his own racing thoughts and deductions. "Your instincts alone are enough to convince me that something funny's going on. Compiled with everything else, I say this girl needs looking into. Checking up on any records of her comes first. Also, I think I'll have Falman ask our friend Barry about her, see if she might have any connection with the Fifth Laboratory, as unlikely as that is."

Riza winced internally as she realized she might have made a mistake. "I told her that General Hughes had been killed. It sounded like she had only come to Central to see him. She might leave before we can find anything out," she admitted.

The colonel stood, fire returning to his eyes. "If she does, we'll just have to keep track of her. Hughes was involved with something big before he was killed, Lieutenant, and we can't afford to let any possible answers to slip away. For his sake, and for this country's."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

 _A/N: This has kind of developed beyond what I'd expected. I thought I would have about three one-shots of Annie and the Elrics with that lovely veil of mystery hanging between them and their secrets, but now I've kind of got this mini plot going. Trust me, this isn't going to turn into something long, but I do have an idea behind this. Hopefully it'll turn out well._

 _Reviews of any sort are very welcome, and thanks for the favorites and follows :)_


	5. Danger in Dreams

_A/N:_ _Well, this is a surprise._

 _To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was coming back to this story. I always had conceived of it as a few one shots, and the bit of plot I did have in my head was always pretty vague. However, with the advent of season 2 of Attack on Titan and a slew of new information about Annie in recent manga chapters and extra content, a new spark of information was lit and here I am again. With the ideas that occurred, this will probably end up veering into manga territory; not overtly, but could be spoilery. Can't promise consistent updates since I have another, larger fan fiction project in progress, but hopefully the new ideas will persist to full completion. For now, enjoy :)_

* * *

"So you're telling me there's nothing on her?" Mustang demanded.

"Not a thing," Lieutenant Breda replied grimly, gnawing on a toothpick with frustration. "Checked census records, immigration, school registries, even prison records. So far as we know, no one by the name of Annie Leonhardt exists in Amestris."

"Could be an illegal immigrant," Jean Havoc commented, leaning back in his chair with feet kicked up on the desk.

Mustang's eyes narrowed. "That seems too coincidental." He turned to Havoc. "Anything from our new friend?"

Havoc shrugged. "Checked in with Falman and asked Barry some questions about her. Said he'd never seen her before. Although," and Havoc's face twisted in disgust, "He did say she sounded like a prime candidat for chopping."

The colonel's fist collided with the desktop. "There must be some connection!" he bit out, trying not to think on the possibility that this really _was_ a massive coincidence, and that he was chasing ghosts. He wouldn't give up this lead yet; he owed it to Hughes. Besides, the absence of any information on Annie Leonhardt could be equally as telling. He just needed a point with which he could link the mysterious girl to the larger picture. His eyes scanned the room. His trusted team, minus Falman, were scattered about, eyes fixed on him and waiting for his instructions.

"She hasn't moved anywhere?" He directed the question to Hawkeye.

"No, sir. As of yesterday, she's still in the city. Working as a dishwasher in a restaurant from what I've gathered, and staying at a boarding house in the southern quarter."

"I want her followed," Mustang barked. "Even if she leaves Central, I don't want to lose track of her. Fuery, Breda, this will be your detail."

"Yes, sir!"

He rose from his seat. "This is the only lead we have, people. Let's not lose it."

* * *

Automail was heavy on a normal day. Today, Ed felt as if he could barely manage to drag his body up the stairs of the apartment building. Al wasn't much better.

Dead. Hughes was dead. Obnoxious, ridiculous, warm and welcoming Lieutenant Colonel Hughes was dead. If that numbing fact hadn't been sitting in Ed's stomach like a block of ice, he might have been furious with Mustang for lying to them. As it was, anger had no room amidst the storm of grief, shock, and guilt warring inside him. Not yet at least.

Shockingly, Ed made it to the top step without collapsing or even tripping, but the weight of his steps seemed to increase the closer he got to the Hughes' door. Nevertheless, he forced himself to knock. It was their mission to find the Philosopher's Stone that had dragged Hughes in and gotten him killed. The least they owed his bereaved family was the truth.

The brothers waited for an agonizing minute before the door swung open. Ms. Gracia, eyes red-rimmed but mustering a tremulous smile for them, stepped aside. "Winry's already here," she said. A small chuckle, muffled by grief, escaped her. "Surprisingly busy today." They followed her wordlessly into the living room. Their friend and mechanic was sat in a chair, curled around little Elicia and trembling. When she looked up, her blue eyes were brimming with tears.

"Winry," Ed murmured. He was on the verge of taking a step forward when movement in his peripherals, coming from the direction of the kitchen, caught his attention. He turned his head and met with quite a surprise.

"Annie?" he asked, utterly bewildered. He heard Al give a little gasp behind him.

The girl from East City, almost unrecognizable completely dry and sans dirty sweatshirt, instead in a simple white button-up and fitted pants, stopped in the kitchen doorway, toting a tray of steaming teacups. Her eyes widened a mere fraction. "Edward Elric, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Ed gave a slight shake of his head. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"You know her, Ed?" Winry asked. As strange as the situation was, he was glad that it provided a bit of distraction from grief.

"She saved us back in East City," Al said, inching forward a bit. He hadn't had the chance to really talk to Annie before, and Ed could sense his curiosity.

"What?!" Winry exclaimed.

"I wouldn't go that far." Annie set the tray down on the dining table. No longer waterlogged and wearing form-fitting clothes, she really did seem tiny; she was shorter than Winry. Hard to believe she had faced off against Scar with hardly a flinch, even if it was only for a few moments. "I provided a distraction for a minute, that's all."

Winry stood, gently placing Elicia on the floor, before crossing to the other girl and grasping one of her hands in both of hers. "Well, whatever you did, thank you. These blockheads are always getting themselves into trouble." Ed stifled an indignant yelp of "Hey!" Not the time for that.

Annie's gaze flickered between her clasped hand and Winry's earnest face. Ed doubted she could have looked more uncomfortable if Major Armstrong had burst into the room shirtless and flexing. As it was, the shorter blonde extricated her hand as delicately from Winry's grasp as if she were handling a set mouse trap. "Really, it was nothing."

"This really is a surprise," exclaimed Ms. Gracia, who had watched the exchange with quiet curiosity. "Maes mentioned the incident, but I never would have thought it was you." Her smile became warm as she gazed at Annie. "Now I'm even more glad that you stopped by. Let's sit down everyone. Annie's been kind enough to make tea, and I have some things for us to snack on. Please." She ushered them to sit, before hurrying to the kitchen, a determination to remain busy apparent in every move.

"So," Ed ventured after a few seconds of silence. Ice blue eyes fixed on him and he cleared his throat. "What _did_ bring you here? You knew Colonel—er, General Hughes?"

Annie sat unmoving, hands folded in her lap and her back rigidly straight. She took a long pause before replying. Her eyes slid just to the left of Edward as she spoke. "I only met him the once, after the incident with the scarred man. He was generous enough to pay for a room for me that night, told me to stop by if I was ever in Central City. When I heard he had died I came by to pay my respects. He seemed like a good person."

"He was," Al whispered, helmet bowing.

Ms. Gracia came bustling back in, bearing little bits of this and that to snack on. Ed shifted in his seat. With Annie here, he couldn't say what he'd meant to to Mrs. Hughes.

They shared tea for, at least it seemed to Ed, an interminable amount of time. Most of the talk came from Winry and Ms. Gracia, with Al occasionally chiming in. Annie stayed quiet. Ed didn't speak either. His right leg jigged up and down with nerves and impatience, fingers drumming on his knees. The longer he sat here with the guilt of Hughes' murder hanging over his head, he expected more and more that he would explode from the pressure.

His opportunity came when Ms. Gracia made to stand. "I had a few other things in the oven. I should probably see to those."

Annie rose smoothly from her chair and was already on her way out of the room by the time she said, "No need. I'll handle it. I'll start another kettle while I'm there." She disappeared into the kitchen.

Ed blew out a breath of relief. It would be more rushed than he would like, but he couldn't wait for another time. This had to be said, or it would only get worse.

"Ms. Gracia," he began, head bowed and voice low. "There's something I need to tell you."

* * *

"I've lost sight of her again!" Fuery hissed to himself. His grip tightened on the rifle in his hands, trying to keep it from slipping in his sweaty palms. Why couldn't it have been Hawkeye here? Fuery was certainly a serviceable marksman, but nowhere near the First Lieutenant's level, and the fact that he was pointing the rifle towards the apartment of a dead friend's widow certainly wasn't helping. But there was nothing for it. This was his and Breda's assignment, and they had made the call. If Annie Leonhardt was somehow connected to this whole conspiracy, she couldn't be allowed to harm the Hughes family, if that was her intent.

So far though, nothing. If he was being honest, Fuery had expected trouble when their mark had made her way here, and the desperate scramble to set up a defense had only convinced him more. But there had been no trouble. All he had managed to glimpse through the windows was talking over afternoon tea. Nevertheless, he didn't budge, just as he knew Breda wouldn't be budging from his position outside the apartment, waiting to either disband or bust in at Fuery's signal. They weren't taking any chances.

After what felt like tension-wracked hours, the mark moved back into his sightline. He felt another twinge of guilt. The person he had in his crosshairs was only a teenage girl. Or so she seemed to be. He hoped that was all she was, at least for her sake.

Whatever the case turned out to be, Mustang was going to take today's report very seriously. If this girl was suspect, it was only a matter of time before the Colonel knew it, and dealt with it.

* * *

"I think I should be going," Annie said when she finally emerged from the kitchen , placing down the tray of oven-warm biscuits. Everyone looked up in surprise. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Hughes."

"Oh, are you sure, Annie?" Ms. Gracia asked. Al had to admire the woman. In spite of what Ed had told her about what her husband had been involved in, in hushed and hurried words uttered with shame, and her reply to the two of them, making them promise to keep moving forward regardless, she acted as if nothing of note had been said in Annie's absence. "It's really no trouble. In fact, Elicia and I have really appreciated the company." This was addressed to the whole room.

"It's a bit of a walk to my place. I would prefer to be back before dark."

Ms. Gracia nodded in acceptance. "I see. Thank you so much for coming by. It's been good to see the kinds of lives my husband has touched."

Annie dipped her head, then made for the door. Al felt the curiosity that had been nagging at him swell. He hadn't gotten a chance to really talk to her. "Excuse me," he said politely, wishing his big metal body wouldn't clank and creak so loudly when he stood.

He caught up to Annie in the hall outside. Strangely, she was just standing in the hallway, peering toward the stairwell with narrowed eyes. "Wait!" Al called. When she turned to face him, he paused, feeling suddenly awkward. It might seem a little weird, chasing after her. He rubbed the back of his helmet. "Um…well, I…I just wanted to thank you. Again. I never really got the chance in East City."

She sighed. "Like I said, I really don't think all the thanks are necessary, but I guess there's no stopping them." She slipped her hands into her pockets, tilting her head to look up at him. "And you are?"

"Uh, Alphonse."

"Alphonse." She squinted. "You sound young."

"I'm fourteen."

She let out a faint huff. "And your brother's not much older. I guess that's no surprise. I just thought there would be more like you."

Al didn't know what to make of that statement. "Huh?"

Annie ignored him, turning to stare back down the hallway again. Alphonse felt a sense of unease come over him. He could read a thread of tension in the girl's frame, like she was tensed for the possibility of a fight. "What's wrong?" he asked, half-consciously shifting into stance himself.

One hooded blue eye locked onto him.

"A lot of things, from what I can tell. You would know that, wouldn't you?"

Alphonse stifled a gasp. His face couldn't give away any hint, thankfully. But did she mean…? How could she?

"Don't you, Alphonse? I can't say I understand the circumstances, but I know how to sense danger, and it's thicker than fog around the two of you. It seems to have caught up with Mr. Hughes."

Alphonse didn't know what to say. Silence seemed damning, but he couldn't think up some kind of excuse. She was being so vague that trying to deny anything might give something away instead. The Fuhrer had expressly forbidden them from speaking about the murky conspiracy surrounding the Fifth Laboratory and the Philosopher's Stone, and on top of that, Annie didn't seem quite so normal all of a sudden.

She stared him down, the silence stretching, before she shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't really concern me anyway. I should go." Then she set off for the stairs, hands still in pockets. Al remained frozen. What had just happened? What did his mean, and what did she really know?

Before he could even process, she paused before the stairwell again, just long enough to throw her parting words over her shoulder. "I'd watch my back if I were you, Alphonse. I think it's a fair guess to say you're surrounded by enemies. Don't let your guard down." Then she was gone, her lightly tapping footsteps fading away.

Alphonse remained standing in the hall for a while afterward, thoroughly thrown off-balance. And how was he going to explain this to Ed?

* * *

Annie stepped out into late afternoon foot traffic, eyes on the ground but every other sense tuned to her surroundings. She wondered where her tail might be hiding. She knew he was still watching. Unfortunately for him, whoever he was would have nothing interesting to glean from her. Probably not.

Annie couldn't deny the nagging of curiosity. Her aimless wandering, her purposeless existence needed to be broken up with some distraction, although this was all partially unintentional. She'd only wanted to know how exactly Maes Hughes had died; it had only taken a little poking in the right places.

Apparently just a little was enough. Something larger was going on. The manner of Hughes's death—focused on research in the preceding days, strange behavior right before it happened, found shot dead—spoke of his being silenced. Her stomach gave a nauseous wrench at the thought. Silenced. Knew too much. She walked faster, and shoved that thought away, focusing instead on how her curious prodding had earned her a follower.

As much as she wanted answers, she determined it was probably best to leave it all be. It didn't really matter anyway, and why go to the trouble when she could enjoy uninterrupted solitude and uneventfulness?

Yes, it was best. She would leave it alone. After all, this world was nothing more than a vivid dream. Better to not become too invested in a fantasy, because one day she would have to wake up again, and face the hell that was reality once again.


End file.
